


The Girlfriend's Guide to Falling in Love

by TenyaTrash



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Coming Out, Didn't Know They Were Dating, F/F, Fangirls, Fluff, Lesbian Kang Jaehee (Mystic Messenger), Oblivious, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-11-15 16:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18077030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenyaTrash/pseuds/TenyaTrash
Summary: Jaehee Kang is a busy lady who is just happy to have found someone in her real life to fangirl with.Min-ji Lee is a busy lady who is just happy to have found something to connect with Jaehee over.Luckily, it all works out in the end.





	1. Bentos and

Like all great love stories, it starts with a bento box and two mis-scheduled corporate tour groups. 

-

Min-ji Lee is a Junior Assistant with C&R International, where she’s worked for the last three years thanks to a smidgin of nepotism on her behalf by her dear Uncle Sung-ho. Last year, she was promoted from a general sectional assistant to personal assistant for Mr. Park, one of the Vice Presidents of Finance for the sprawling conglomerate. The promotion had led to praise, a raise, and a shocking decrease in personal time and autonomy, which is exactly what the somewhat overwhelmed Miss Lee had hoped for. The promotion was proof that she could stand on her own, that it wasn’t just avuncular charity paying her bills. And if her corresponding lack of free-time just happened to create a ready-made excuse for not dating? Well…all the better. 

It’s not that she’s not interested.  
_Of course_ she wants to get married, have children, and pass on the family traditions to a new generation.  
_Of course_ she’s out there looking for a nice young man to settle down with.  
She just doesn’t have the time. 

At least, that’s what she tells Mama. 

-

Min-ji, dutiful daughter and diligent assistant, is sitting in the 12th floor employee lounge of C&R International, looking forward to finally being able to enjoy her lunch in peace. Most of her coworkers prefer to eat in the stately and efficient cafeteria, but she likes the solitude of the lounge, which is perpetually underutilized by its very nature. 

After all, employees are almost always either busy, with no time to lounge, or free, with no desire to stay at work past their contract hours. As far as Min-ji can tell, the lounges mostly exist for the sake of brochures and pictures for prospective employee web portals. Given the frankly insane competition for spots at C&R, perhaps it’s working. 

She places her phone on the table in front of her, aware that Mr. Park could call at any moment, even during her sacred lunch time. She sends up a little prayer that it wont ring, and begins to unwrap her homemade bento, humming along to a musical that was on last night. Her napkin is neatly folded, her chopsticks are elegantly raised in attack formation, and that poached egg is begging her to eat it. A perfect moment, prior to what she hopes will be a perfect meal. Her humming intensifies.

_“Ha-cha”_

She blinks up at the soft chuckle, hoping her humming hasn’t disturbed anyone important, and finds her hope immediately dashed. Oh no. It’s her. The most sophisticated and diligent of all assistants. Her idol. A lesser assistant would faint. She panics. 

“Oh! Chief Assistant Kang! My apologies!”

Min-ji blushes and rises from her chair with a bow, red-faced at having been caught doing something so frivolous as humming. Luckily for her, it turns out, Chief Assistant Kang is a lover of the arts. 

“Please, Assistant Lee, no need to apologize. May I? There appears to be a tour group overloading the cafe.”

She motions to an unoccupied table to the side of Lee’s, and naturally, the more junior assistant readily acquiesces. It seems both women have a penchant for boxed lunches, solitude, and as it turns out, musicals featuring a certain male lead. As the superior, it falls to Jaehee to broach the topic. She waits until the lunches are all but finished, to minimize loss of nutrition. 

Naturally. 

“Assistant Lee?”

“Yes, Chief Assistant Kang?”

“I couldn’t help but notice your humming earlier. Was that….the opening refrain from ‘The Boy Who Dreamt?’”

Min-ji covers her mouth in surprise before nodding her assent cheerily. She’s surprised that Chief Assistant Kang knows it. A few hummed notes from a not-particularly-popular musical, yet Kang was able to identify it easily. She’s truly remarkable. 

“No need to be embarrassed. I’m quite a fan, myself, you know.”

Chief Assistant Kang smiles brightly, considerably cheered to have a coworker to share her passion with. Min-ji nearly faints. She had a dream like this once, only they were on a beach, and she had a puppy. 

“Really? I- had no idea!”

The two overworked assistants nudge their chairs closer together and spend the last few minutes of their legally-mandated lunch break discussing the finer points of Zen’s acting and the benefits of a balanced bento. 

“Did you see the limited edition poster for ‘The Golden Crab?’”

“Yes, I even put in a bid, but I’m afraid I was instantly outclassed by the other fans. I had to settle for the lower-quality replica that came with the boxed set.”

“Ah, I see. I’ve faced similar challenges. Are you part of the official fanclub?”

On and on they go, bonding over a shared appreciation for the up-and-comer Zen, and though Min-ji doesn’t quite share Jaehee’s glasses-glinting level of fangirling, she’s delighted to hear all about her superior’s rare-buys and feats in front-row ticket jousting. They even exchange numbers (ostensibly, so that Jaehee can send her merch pics), which damn near short-circuits the star-struck Junior Assistant. Jaehee pats her arm in commiseration, misreading the young woman as being overwhelmed by Zen, rather than herself. 

Min-ji lets the assumption stand. 

When they break to return to their duties, it’s with promises to meet again, as soon as schedules permit. Min-ji gets off on the twentieth floor, with a wave and a smile. Jaehee exits on the top floor, with an almost imperceptible chuckle. 

What a lovely lunch.

\----

No matter how lovely lunch is, the day is long, the bosses are demanding, and the work is never ending. By the time Min-ji gets home, she can feel the stress dripping out of every pore, and her amazing encounter with Jaehee seems like a fever dream. At least, until she gets a text alert two hours later. She actually squeals. 

Chief Assistant Kang. 

No...Jaehee.

She said she could call her Jaehee. 

Jaehee.

Jaehee texted her. 

Min-ji falls asleep, clutching her phone. In the morning, she’ll panic about not having charged it, but for now, she’s happy and oblivious and dreaming of wonderful things.

\----


	2. Things Pop Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they announce a Zen pop-up, the ladies have one mission: Get there and get the most exclusive prizes. 
> 
> Naturally, Jumin throws a wrench in the works.

Min-ji slides her phone off the nightstand and looks through her story, trying not to be too obvious or effusive in her following of Jaehee. After that first lunch, Jaehee added her on KaKaoStory and she nearly expired from excitement. At least until she checked the top assistant’s feed and realized the poor woman never got a break, never mind time to develop a personal life. Other than the occasional tired selfie, the page is mostly dedicated to Zen, food, and cryptic cries for help when a certain someone overwhelms her with outrageous projects and last-minute deals. Not to mention surprise cat-sitting. 

Min-ji, on the other hand, is a flurry of updates and well-rounded posts, trying her best to project an image of calm success. It’s half for her friends, who she struggles to stay connected with, now that they’ve been out in the workforce for a few years, and half for some public face that she doesn’t even need yet, but cultivates all the same. Just in case. She’s always been a planner. 

Jaehee’s posts are rare, and Min-Ji’s are fake. Other than a like here and there, and that initial hello, their virtual lives stay sadly separate. 

Still, the connection means something, and Min-ji doesn’t mind taking on the responsibility for injecting some happiness into the few free moments that she does get. This feels like something real, and that means it’s worth trying. She could really use a friend, at work and in general. 

And Jaehee’s just the greatest.  
\---

Min-ji nearly dances up the elevator, vibrating in excitement at the news that she’s about to drop on Chief Assistant Kang. Thanks to a university friend and a late-night drinking session, for once, she’s got the scoop on Zen news, and she savors the thrilled excitement that she just knows she’ll see on her friend’s face. 

A Zen pop-up.  
Exclusive. Secretive. One Time Only. 

There have been whispers for months, but Min-ji has the exact time and place, her loose-lipped friend spilling everything about the big project she was managing. Jaehee is going to lose her mind. 

As she pops off the top off of her salad, she sends a gentle reminder text to Jaehee, feeling a flush of silliness when she hears the message tone ringing from the hallway next to the still-deserted employee lounge. She smiles and stands seconds later when the recipient arrives. 

“Sorry for the texting, Jaehee! I was just too excited to see you!”

Jaehee blushes faintly, not used to that kind of attention and praise. Mr. Han is always so unemotional in his compliments, which normally center on her efficiency, and everyone else is too focused on the wunderkind to pay much attention to the woman who trails him, never realizing the work she does to keep the company from crashing down around them. 

“It’s good to see you too, Min-ji. Although I admit, I’m not as exciting a lunch companion as you might think.”

“Oh, I’m the exciting one today, let me tell you!”

Jaehee sits and begins to unwrap her own lunch, surprised but intrigued at the giddy energy radiating from her new friend. 

“So….you know that Zen pop-up store that all the message boards have been circling?”

Jaehee is now in serious mode. She steeples her fingers and peers at her lunchmate. 

“Of course. I’ve been trying to track the merchandise orders myself, but it’s hard without abusing C&R’s powers. Which of course I’d never do, even for our hero Zen.”

Min-ji smiles and slides her phone across the table, happiness expanding in time with Jaehee’s widening eyes. 

“Is this-?”

“The date and location for the pop-up? Why yes, yes it is.”

Lunch passes in a haze of Zen trivia and excited planning, but all too soon they're both forced to abandon their half-eaten meals and half-formed plans as their phones trill to life. Right, the executives. Grown men who can’t survive without their diligent assistants, calling this time for...Mr. Han wants a secondary report prepared for a business deal in Sri Lanka, which at least seems within the confines of the job. But Mr. Park? Mr. Park is calling her to ask about pricing for adding an artificial putting green to his corner office. 

Because that’s the kind of thing that just can’t wait until after lunch. 

The two put-upon assistants head back up with empathetic smiles and promises to talk tonight.  
They have a pop-up raid to plan. 

\---

Sure enough, as Min-ji prepares a pot of curry to make into takeaway meals for the coming week, she abuses her cell’s speakerphone to chat with Jaehee, who is effusive in her praise and planning despite the long day that has followed her home. The chief assistant evidently has a two-monitor computer system, one screen running over a compiling C+R report while the other grounds her in Zen merch and tweets from his promoter’s account. Through the two-hour phone call, Min-Ji can hear the chaos in her idol’s voice, at one point forcing her elder off of the computer and into the kitchen to grab something nutritious to eat. 

When Jaehee admits she’s got nothing of substance in her rarely-used kitchen, Min-ji doubles her curry recipe. Tomorrow they’ll plan some more and Min-ji will send her home with a half-week’s worth of hearty home-cooked meals. Work is important, but without your health, it’s all meaningless, which is what she tells Jaehee. 

“Hmph. No, I’m not mad! You’re right, it’s just funny: you kind of remind me of me. There’s a university student I frequently remind about the same things.”

“Well then I guess you should take your own excellent advice, okay? After all, I need my Zen-friend nice and healthy in case the pop-up has a stampede! You’ll have to protect me!”

“Min-ji! Don’t joke about such a thing!” Jaehee tries, but can’t keep the giggle out of her voice. Must be her frayed nerves making her so informal and free. She should really go to sleep. 

“Okay, okay. I think that’s the night for me. See you tomorrow, Min-ji.”

“Sweet dreams, Jaehee. Remember to have a good breakfast at least!”

\---

A week later, the big day finally arrives. Jaehee and Min-ji have already gotten permission for a long lunch and plotted the routes on their phones. Min-ji is wearing extra-comfy shoes with comfort insoles, the kind of modest heels she can run in if it comes to it. Jaehee has foregone her small purse for an extra-durable and wide-lipped tote, which she tucks under her desk and her knees jangle in nervous energy. 

She knows Mr. Han would chide her for such foolishness, but if he’s allowed to have Elizabeth the third, she’s allowed to have Zen, damn it! She blushes a little at the vigor of her internal defense. Phew, she must be more keyed-up than she thought. 

Still, there’s work to be done, and it would not do to lose focus. She will work hard in the morning and celebrate in the evening. That is fair. 

Jaehee and Min-ji start their day, Min-ji able to beg off even earlier thanks to Mr. Park’s joy at the putting green she just had installed for him. As she slides into a spectacular space in line, she pulls out her phone to text Jaehee, only to realize she’s got half a dozen texts from the poor lady. 

Oh, no.  
Oh, Jumin Han, where is your humanity?  
Do you really use it all up on your cat?

> **Jaehee [13:02]:** I am so sorry Min-ji! Mr. Han is refusing to let me leave. 
> 
> **Jaehee [13:03]:** Well, I suppose that is inaccurate. Mr. Han has made it clear that he will question my work ethic and general sanity if I leave. Another of his cat projects came up and, as he put it, ‘shopping for such meaningless things’ is not a priority. 
> 
> **Jaehee [13:05]:** Again, I am so sorry. 

There’s also a flurry of teary-eyed custom emojis. They’re adorable, and Min-ji would normally be all over Jaehee to find out how she got such expressive custom images loaded into her messaging service, but for now, all she feels is rage and pity. Poor Jaehee. She’d been looking forward to this all week. Longer, if you count the month of trying to suss out where and when the pop-up would be. And Mr. Han just wiped that all away with some whim!

Min-ji stamps her foot against the pavement, angry tears pricking at her eyes.  
What a meanie!

Min-ji responds with a few choice words about the man who very nearly runs their company, and plenty of sympathy and crying emojis. As she tucks the phone back into her purse, she feels herself deflate, the whole day suddenly seeming empty and grey. 

Honestly, she doesn’t even like Zen that much. Look, he’s great and all, but she’s not normally the kind of fan that rearranges her schedule for a chance at merch of him. The whole reason she was so delighted by all of this was because it gave her a chance to spend social time with Jaehee, and to make her happy. 

Without her here, it just...isn’t really meaningful.

Min-ji wavers on staying or not, but she knows the pop-up has some exclusive merch that her friend will have a heart attack over missing. The least she can do to cheer Jaehee up is get her some of the items she’d been salivating over. Plus, with her spot in line, it’s not like she’s going to be wasting a lot of time. 

Sure enough, within fifteen minutes of the doors opening, she’s inside. 

There’s a strict limit in the store, only one per customer for most of the items. Given her super-fan status and generous salary (although, is any amount of money worth a boss like that) Jaehee was probably planning on getting one of everything, but Min-ji doesn’t have that kind of money. Instead, she focuses her hunt on only the most super-exclusive items, those that will probably only surface here. 

\---

Min-ji gets back to work with bags of shopping, tucking her prizes under her desk as she sends an inter-office message up to Jaehee, offering a late-takeout dinner, her treat. It’s not what Jaehee had hoped for when she opened her eyes this morning, but at least she’ll get to hear about the shop and see some of the pieces. She accepts the invitation, warning the other that she’s not sure when she’ll be finished for the night.  
Turns out, pretty late. But Min-ji is a patient lady, and she takes the opportunity to get ahead of her monthly reports and duties. She even has time to reorganize Mr. Park’s filing and put together some gift baskets for his clients and business partners. When Jaehee finally tests to see if they’re still on (no pressure), Min-ji nearly does a dance. 

They head to a nearby noodle house with a reputation for good food and a safe atmosphere, unwinding enough to have a beer or two as they attack their bowls and commiserate over Jaehee’s ruined day and the woes of being an assistant. Once dinner is done and their fingers and tabletop are super clean, Min-ji reveals the bags of merch, all of which is for Jaehee. 

“Wow. You really went all out! And look at this! Feel the paper quality! That is, if you don’t mind me looking. I know it’s yours, but I’d love to take a closer look.”

“Look as closely as you want. It’s all yours, anyway.”

There’s a moment before the realization hits, and then Jaehee’s eyes are swimming as she takes in all the pieces she’d been longing for, neatly packaged with special limited-run bags and Zen-printed washi tape.

“I- what?! Min-ji, this is a very mean joke if you’re joking!”

“I’m not, I’m not! Look, I’m a fan, but I don’t hold a candle to you. I couldn’t let you miss out on them!”

Jaehee dabs her eyes, suddenly wondering what she did to deserve such kindness.

“Min-ji...this is too much. So kind, but I could never-”

Min-ji must really be feeling those two beers, because she gets the courage to hush her idol, one small manicured hand heading up to gently press over the mouth of a wide-eyed and blushing Jaehee. 

“Look, you’re going to, because my apartment honestly doesn’t have space for all this stuff. Consider it a birthday and Christmas and Valentine’s gift, all rolled into one. And if you can’t do that, then reimburse me for the cost of the items, if you have to. But you aren’t giving them back, no matter what!”

She takes her hand off her coworker’s mouth and folds her arms as if to say, “Just try me.”

Jaehee is...This is a lot to process, honestly. She went from no merch to all the merch she wanted, she’s pretty sure she’s accidentally gotten her junior coworker drunk, and she’s been shushed by a surprisingly soft but firm hand that smelled like stewed beef. 

It sounds like she’s describing a nonsensical dream but no, she’s awake. She’s still hesitating to accept such generosity though, even knowing she will, of course, be reimbursing the lower-salaried lady. Min-ji seems to seize on her wavering resolve, pulling out a small paper package triumphantly. 

“And anyway, I did get a little something for me! Want to see?”

Without waiting for a response, with a flourish she pulls out…

A neko-Zen phone charm. The chibi him is wearing a bell that tinkles as it shakes, fluffy white ears and a tail rounding out the adorable and horribly off-brand item. 

Lord, how on earth did that get through licensing? 

Min-ji carefully clips it to her phone and gives the charm an experimental jingle, clapping her hands when the bell rings. 

“Yeah, it’s apparently super-limited edition and they’ll never do any cat-charms again. I didn’t get the full story, but it’s strange, right? I mean, I think they’d sell super well! Neko Zen is just too cute!”

Jaehee knows why, but that’s privileged RFA information, so she just takes a quick snap of the charm, eager to share the discovery with poor Zen, who will no doubt have a fit over it. 

“Anyway, since you get enough of cats from Mr. Han, I figured you wouldn’t mind not getting one.”

Jaehee smiles and nods sincerely. 

“Yes. Thank you for not ruining Zen for me. I don’t know what I’d do if I started to think of him as catlike.”

Cry and sneeze, probably.  
Maybe quit her job and run off to live in a nice hermitage somewhere. 

Min-ji transfers the gifts to Jaehee’s no-longer-useless tote and the two women break apart at the entrance to the subway, Min-ji taking the Orange Line home while Jaehee sticks to surface streets, stepping into a town car and heading back in style. One of the luxuries of having such a mercurial boss is the private car and driver that are always available to her. 

Jaehee spends the rest of the night in fan-girl ecstasy, rearranging the merch half a dozen times in her rooms while humming along to one of Zen’s earlier musicals. Filled with warmth and gratitude, she remembers to send Min-ji a good night text and final thank you. 

In a less exclusive part of town, the already drowsy Min-ji brings her phone close to her face and breaks into a languid smile at the red-cheeked selfie Jaehee sends her. She’s glad she was able to rescue at least part of the day. 

Jaehee deserves to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. End of year stuff is really messing with me, but I finally had time to come back to these two oblivious ladies.

**Author's Note:**

> Jaehee deserves the world (and a vacation).


End file.
